


The Perfect Soldier

by Tortellini



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - War, Alternate Universe - World War I, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Violence, Brothers Germany & Prussia (Hetalia), Character Study, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Germany is Holy Roman Empire, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Mud, Multi, No Dialogue, Non-Graphic Violence, Nostalgia, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rain, Rats, Rats & Mice, Sad, Sad Ending, Soldiers, Trench Warfare, Violence, War, Wordcount: 100-500, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 02:50:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10981806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tortellini/pseuds/Tortellini
Summary: (World War 1 AU) Ludwig Beilschmidt is a young German soldier in the trenches in France. As he waits for his inevitable death, he remembers someone he used to love many years ago as a child.Oneshot/drabble





	The Perfect Soldier

Ludwig Beilschmidt is the perfect soldier in the trenches. He's stern, and cold, and he never ever lets his feelings show. Even when he's crouching in the muck, he tries to sit straight. Even when the other men complain about the dirty water, the rats the size of cats that sometimes come out to eat the dead, and all the lice...he's able to stay silent.

At night, Ludwig listens to the faint rumble of bombs overhead. He knows he could die any day now, and never see his brother or his grandfather again--it'd be scarily easy for his life to end. Gilbert, by the way, is on leave to visit what was left of their house, of _Opa_ their grandfather, in rural Germany. Ludwig will admit he misses him, even though he's pretty obnoxious...and stupidly brave. Besides, he knows he's grateful for the relief.

With the bombs, the awful shells, going off right above him, Ludwig knows the frogs--the French, not the actual frogs that have invaded his trench--are dying. It makes him feel kind of sick, and good at the same time.

He rolls over in his bed, smelling earth, and unfolds two photographs. They're torn and faded, messed up with coffee rings from their rations. He clutches them desperately to his chest--one is of his family, him and Gilbert in their uniforms, standing proudly on either side of their grandfather. The other is of his crush as a child, the only one he ever loved like that: a small girl dressed in a thick wool dress, with warm eyes and soft brown curls... He hasn't seen her since this picture was taken many years ago...

Ludwig's fingers tremble as he holds them closer to his chest. He loves her.

And by now, he knows he'll die loving her.


End file.
